You're not the type of fag who needs to have the Last Word...

...even though you blabbed your way through your twenties, now that you're in your thirties you've realized that most people don't really give a shit about you or what you have to say. All they really care about is that you give a shit about them and what they have to say. And let's face it, you pretty much don't care. Sometime during your fourteen year relationship you realized that some arguments just aren't worth having. You feel one way, he feels another. You know he's wrong. He thinks you're wrong. And neither of you really give a shit what the other says. Oh l'amour, l'amour! Toujours l'amour!

Anyway. You're about to quit Match.com because you fucking hate it. All it does is make you feel guilty about not contacting the boys that write or wink at you. So last week you went on to hide your profile, but after you logged on you decided to do one last search. Low and behold, you found a super cute newbie online dater named Remarkable. So you decided to take action and write him:

YOU: "So just as I'm about to go offline because I'm soooooooo over Match.com, I find you. I guess I'll keep my profile active long enough for you to check it out... I hope you like what you see as much as i did. Off to Long Island for New Years. Can you believe that? Personally I'm still a bit dumbfounded. Have a fun evening!"

You were short, sweet and to the point. And guess what? Remarkable wrote you back immediately, and it was a cute response to boot:

REMARKABLE: "I guess I just made Match.com another $40! You seem very interesting. I'm out the door myself to go to a New Year's Eve concert, so let's chat later."

Nice. So you respond with a cute, but snarky:

YOU: "Do you come with a money back guarantee? ;-) Have a Remarkable New Year's Eve!"

And that's the end of that. Nothing. Nada. Did Remarkable get trampled to death at his Concert? Is his Cable Modem on the fritz? Did he decide to date your Straight Boyfriend instead of you? You wouldn't know because Remarkable never writes you back. Irritating, but typical. Meanwhile the annoying winks and emails from fat old men wearing Gap denim jean shorts circa 1994 keep pouring in. You wait as long as you can, but you really want to shut down your Match.com account. Only you're torn because if you turn it off he won't be able to contact you and you'd really like to meet this guy and . Ugh. Talk about Sophie's Choice.

But after your whole Straight Boyfriend debacle, you decide that it's time to take action. You come home a bit drunk (Okay, a lot drunk... What? Is that a crime? It's not like you're running the free world.) and you decide to write back ol' Remarkable. It's been five days of no reply, and that's just plain excessive. You keep it short and simple, because you're pretty sure that He's Just Not That Into You:

YOU (FIVE DAYS LATER): "Are you really not gonna write me back? Was I that scary? Too bad."

In hindsight you realize that it might have come out a wee bit needy, but whatever. Cut yourself some slack. You were drunk. But look what ends up in your Inbox, almost instantaneously:

REMARKABLE: "No, I wasn't planning on not writing you back, I've just been busy. But if you are coming to this with such a level of intensity and expectation, then perhaps it's best I don't..."

But ya did, Blanche! Ya did write me back! You are shocked. What is the fucking point of this? "Such a level of intensity and expectation"?? Please! Although you are sure you could show him intensity and expectation in sixteen different emails that, luckily, you only compose in your head, you end up taking the advice that Remarkafuck should have taken himself, and you don't write him back. After all, you just learned everything you need to know about Remarkfuck and you didn't even have to suffer through a round of drinks. Remarkable? Not so much. Note to self: cancel Match.com. Anyway.